


Bad Things Happen Bingo Card 1

by Deviant_Donghun



Series: Sanders Sides One Shots [45]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Abuse, Allergic reaction, Angst, Blood, Blood Loss, Body Horror, Captivity, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Violence, Morality | Patton Sanders Has ADHD, Non human characters, teen!sides
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:06:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 17,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27011710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deviant_Donghun/pseuds/Deviant_Donghun
Summary: Do you like whump? Do you like to see your favorite characters is pain or painful situations? Then this is the book for you. Content warnings will be provided at the beginning of every chapter and I advise that you heed those and the tags. This is a compilation of dark works of fiction so take discretion.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders
Series: Sanders Sides One Shots [45]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1962379
Kudos: 28





	1. The Card




	2. Allergic Reaction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Allergic reaction, food, hospitals, death mention.

Patton hummed to the music as he baked. He was working on his third batch of cookies, having already made plain chocolate chip cookies and peanut butter cookies. Not paying much attention to his surroundings, he failed to hear when Logan walked into the room and picked up a cookie. 

Turning to the side to lay the batter out, he caught Logan out of the corner of his eye and nearly dropped the bowl. “Logan, put that down!” He almost shrieked as he set the bowl on the counter and started rummaging for medicine in the cabinet. 

Logan just looked at him weird. “Why would I put down a perfectly good cookie?”

“Because you picked up a peanut butter cookie, you know, one that could kill you!”

Logan dropped the cookie. “Patton, why do we even keep peanut butter in the house?!” Logan’s voice took on a frantic edge as he joined Patton in his search of the cabinets.

“Because I like it!! Besides, I didn’t know you were home!”

“Why would I not be home on a Friday afternoon? I’m always home at this time!”

Patton shrugged even as he smacked Logan’s hand from scratching at the hives cropping up on Logan’s neck. Taking a deep breath, he tried to keep calm. “Logan, how are you feeling? Is there any tightening, itching, or tingling on your mouth or throat?”

Logan nodded, his fingers rubbing over the skin on his neck in attempts to sooth it. “Tightening of the throat and itching mouth.” He responded. 

“Okay, go ahead and run the hand that touched the cookie under some water. Hopefully, that will help.”

“How is it going to help?” Even as he asked, he did as he was told, following the registered nurse’s instructions.

“It should get rid of any residue on the hand. I’m hoping the reaction will lessen in intensity.”

“Uh, Patton, my hand is swelling.”

Patton swore as he ran out of the room. He ran into the bedroom and grabbed a book off his shelf, flipping through it so quickly he was only using the page numbers as a guide. When he found the page he wanted, he paused to read over it before swearing again and dropping the book on the desk.

Running back into the room, he shoved Logan’s shoes into his dry hand. “Put these on, we need to get to the hospital.”

Logan had a brief look of panic flash across his face before he covered it in his usual mask of calm. “Is everything alright, Patton?”

“You need medicine that we don’t have in the house. “He glared at the traitorously empty cabinets. 

Logan nodded as he shoved his foot into a shoe, trying to dry his hand at the same time. Patton slipped into his shoes, grabbing his keys and holding the door open for Logan.

“It’s nothing to worry about, Logan.” Patton reassured even as his heart was racing in fear. He’d never had to deal with something like this in a situation where medication was not readily available. They made it to the hospital in record time due to Patton taking back roads and shortcuts to avoid the stoplights. He rushed him in and soon Logan was being pulled into a back room while Patton paced in the waiting room, unable to do anything. 

Later, he would be told Logan was fine with no side effects. Later, they would go home and Patton would put the peanut butter away and store the cookies away from the others. He would be glad that he had only been stirring batter and they hadn’t burnt their house down. But that was later. For now, he waited for news. He waited as his anxiety crept up like vines around his legs and in his lungs, taking a hold if he paused for even a second. For now, he wondered if he had just accidentally killed someone. 


	3. Sensory Overload

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Food, insensitivity toward mental health, homophobia mentioned.

Patton had gone through the whole day just fine. He’d been in his room for most of it, sure, but who could blame him when it was Thanksgiving and the whole extended family was there. His mom kept trying to get him to come out of his room, not seeming to realize that Patton had had a very bad week in school and needed to blow off some steam before he had a meltdown.

Nevertheless, he was called down for supper and knew he couldn’t miss that after only having a granola bar to eat all day. So, he came down and sat at the table, where no one cared that he was ADHD but cared too much about people being gay. He had to listen to homophobic talk and slurs as people spoke, using them as much if not more often than ‘please’ and ‘thank you’.

He tried to ignore everyone, tried to ignore the click of silverware that was louder than a jet engine, the feel of carrots in his mouth making him want to puke, the palms of his hands burning as he touched anything, the bottoms of his feet feeling like they were on fire in the socks he wore. He tried not to think about how much his eyes hurt from the bright lights, how much he wanted to curl up in bed with his hands over his ears and the blanket over his head. 

He didn’t even realize he’d stopped eating and been crying until a hand was on his shoulder, making the skin there heat as if burnt. Pulling away, Patton didn’t notice the questions being asked, the mocking voices as he passed. He didn’t know where he was going, just shoved his shoes on and ran.

He turned the knob, his hand burning, and pushed the door open, not noticing when it slammed behind him. He ran, not knowing where he was going but knowing he needed to be away from there, away from people who didn’t know him, didn’t care for him, didn’t care about anything but themselves. He didn’t hear his mother’s concerned voice, didn’t hear his brother offer to go after him and drag him back, didn’t hear his father say to let him be.

He ran until his hearing tuned back in, then he ran some more. He focused on the sound his feet made when they hit the pavement, the feeling of his legs burning in a good way, the feel of his lungs struggling for air.

When he stopped, he laid back in the grass, looking up at now dark sky, eyes finally focusing enough to see the constellations. He panted, chest heaving as he tried to get enough air in. His hands settled by his sides, palms up. The night air hit them, cooling them down. He could still taste the carrots on his tongue, still feel them sliding down his throat. 

He had a long walk back home but there was his favorite pie waiting for him, a slice set aside for him to take to his room to eat. For now, however, he just laid there and counted the stars as he waited for his tears to slow, his heartbeat to come back to normal. He waited for his breathing to even out. He waited for the heavy feeling in his chest to go away, for the sinking in his stomach to stop. He waited.


	4. Hidden Scar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: mentions of injuries, food mention, large body of water.

There were three things someone needed to know if they were ever to be friends with Roman Knightly.

The first was pretty obvious. He was obsessed with all things Disney and theatre. He ranted about Dear Evan Hansen for weeks after he’d seen it. He was always getting into heated debates with anyone, mainly Virgil, about which Disney movie was the best, which villain was the worst, and so on.

The second was less amusing. Roman never wore shorts. No one was ever sure why and when he or Remus were questioned, neither would give a clear answer. Or even answer the same way twice. It confused the rest of them but they didn’t bring it up much.

The third was even less amusing. He never went swimming. When asked, he said he did know how, he just never wanted to. Any attempts to get him in the water are met with being pushed into it by him. He says it’s because he doesn’t like getting his hair wet but the others don’t buy that.

Even so, it didn’t stop them from trying. Which is why they were at Patton’s house as he was the only one of the group that had a private pool. Most of the group, including Remus, were in swimsuits. The only one that wasn’t was Roman. Instead he was sitting by the poolside with a notebook in hand, trying to write the next act in his screenplay.

Logan approached and sat beside him, looking over his shoulder. “What are you working on?”

Roman looked over at him. “Just something for fun.”

Logan nodded. “What happened to your leg?”

Roman blinked, startled, as panic invaded his eyes. “What do you know about it?”

Logan shrugged. “Only what I’ve deducted.”

“And what would that be?” Roman’s eyes narrowed in a glare.

“You never wear anything shorter than ankle length pants even going so far as to have opaque tights under your skirts. You never swim, even when provided ankle length swim gear. On some days I have noticed you favoring your left leg, leading me to the only obvious conclusion that there is a previous injury there that you do not wish to disclose. This injury probably was obtained near or in a large body of water, thus deterring you from wanting to enter another large body of water. How close am I to the truth?”

Roman shrank in his seat, curling in on himself. “Pretty spot on.” He muttered just loud enough for Logan to hear. 

Logan nodded. “So, now that I’ve single-handedly cracked the case, care to tell me what is going on?”

Roman shrugged. “I guess.” Sitting up, he took a steadying breath. “Okay, I’ll tell you. When I was younger, must have been about ten or so, I jumped into a pool. Not only did I misjudge the distance, I was way off. I managed to break my leg while also scraping the skin off it at the same time.”

“How did you scrape the skin off?” 

“I didn't notice that the tiles were loose. I managed to scrape my leg down the side of the pool and hit the bottom at just the right angle to break my leg and skin more of the leg.” He hid his face behind his notebook as if he were embarrassed about this. 

“I understand.” Logan said in a tone that was meant to be comforting. “It’s easy to misjudge depth. I must say, I don’t understand why you felt the need to hide such an injury from the rest of us.”

Roman shrugged. “It’s embarrassing to me.”

“Fair enough. Would you like an ice pop?” Seeing that Roman was uncomfortable, Logan changed the topic with ease.

Roman smiled, uncurling slightly. “Yes, I would. Thank you.”

Logan smiled and patted him on the shoulder as he stood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is loosely based off my own experiences. No, I didn't break my leg, I actually still love to swim. I had jumped into the pool and scraped my left leg on the jutting tiles of the bottom step. The scars are still there and (I think) they look pretty cool. So, yeah. Took my own trauma and kicked it up to eleven and made it Romans.


	5. Big Brother Instinct

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: wounds, blood, allusions to fire.

Virgil looked up from his textbook to see a skinny kid with bandages on his elbows standing at his desk. Sighing, Virgil pulled an earphone out. “Can I help you?”

The kid nodded, holding out a hand for Virgil to shake. “I’m Patton Picani but everyone calls me Pat!”

Virgil smirked, leaning over to shake the offered hand, noticing that Patton had a strong grip despite his lanky stature. “My name’s Virgil Croft.”

Patton smiled but it quickly turned hesitant as the hand went to rub the back of his neck. “I’m kind of new here and don’t know much about the school.” He confessed.

Virgil nodded, knowing what that was like. “There’s an empty seat right beside me.”

Patton smiled in thanks and slid into it. When he pulled out a cartoon character themed pencil case Virgil vowed to protect him from all harm.

So, it came to no surprise to him that he instinctively scanned rooms for Patton, making sure to sit at a lunch table that had a direct view of him. He seemed to have gained a friend in Roman Prince, which was nice. He made sure to leave a seat open for him in any classes they took together. 

The watchfulness came to a peak when Virgil was leaving school a few weeks after Patton arrived. He heard a shout from a nearby alley that sounded suspiciously like a school bully with a new victim. He dropped his backpack by the flagpole, taking his hoodie off and wrapping it around his waist as he walked toward the alley.

When he got there, he found a scene he’d seen, and been in, multiple times before. Two of the bullies were holding a smaller body between themselves, keeping the person upright while the lead bully humiliated them. Most times when Virgil was between the bullies, this meant punching his stomach until he coughed up blood. For this situation, it meant going through the small person’s bag and cackling as they pulled out a familiar cartoon-covered pencil case. Looking closer, Virgil found a pair of glasses off to the side, one lens broken in a way that it was obvious it’d been stepped on.

Virgil saw red when the bully flicked open a lighter and tried to hold it under Patton’s pencil case. He pulled back his fist and threw a punch, feeling it connect with the bully’s nose in a satisfying crunch. They staggered back, dropping the pencil case but keeping a hold on the lighter. 

Virgil pushed past him to swing at the goons holding Patton, one of which dropped him in favor of trying to block. Virgil still managed to give him an uppercut to the chin, knocking him out. Turning to the other one, he hissed at him in the way he’d perfected over the years. The bully didn’t try to do anything, just dropped Patton’s arm and ran.

Virgil didn’t watch him go, just knelt to pull Patton into a hug. “Are you alright?” he asked, hand running through Patton’s hair in an attempt to help.

Patton nodded, hands fisting in Virgil's shirt. Tears seeped through and Virgil pulled back just enough to run his eyes over Patton, trying to confirm what he said. “Are you sure you’re not hurt anywhere?”

Patton sat up, rubbing his eyes. “I’m sure.”

Virgil nodded. “Okay.” He pulled his hoodie from around his waist and wrapped it around Patton before pulling back. Standing, he gathered Patton’s discarded belongings, gently putting his glasses in the pencil case, informing him as he did so.

When he was done, he slung the bag over his shoulder and helped Patton to his feet. “Do you want to walk to the nurse's office or be carried?”

Patton stayed close to his side. “Walking is fine as long as you remember I can’t see anything without my glasses.”

Virgil couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him. He pulled Patton close and made sure he was tucked under Virgil’s arm before they started walking back to the school, picking up Virgil’s backpack on the way.

From then on, Virgil had lunch with Patton and Roman whenever he could, making sure to keep a closer eye on him in class. He walked him home every day, watching the shy but brave kid in the beginning soon blossom into a ray of sunshine that would not let any clouds get in his way.


	6. Doesn't Realize They've Been Injured

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Food, burns, bandages, sleep deprivation, wounds.

Logan stumbled to the kitchen, eyes burning. He flicked on the light, wincing at the brightness levels. He moved over to the coffee maker and robotically prepared the next pot. He paused, thinking. “How many cups is this?” He thought aloud.

When no answer was given, he simply continued his actions. When his sleep deprived brain refused to cooperate with him, his fingers ended up dropping the pot. The glass shattered on the ground, a shout in the distance echoing back. Logan cursed slightly and knelt, starting to pick up the pieces by hand. 

“Logan, what happened?” A worried voice sounded from the entrance.

Logan looked over his shoulder and smiled. “It’s fine, Virgil. Go back to bed, I’ve got this.”

Virgil sighed, coming over to cup Logan’s cheeks. “How long have you been up?” He asked gently.

Logan opened his mouth to answer but paused. “What day is it?”

Virgil sighed. “Thursday.”

Logan’s frown deepened. “I remember waking up on a Thursday.”

Virgil growled low in his throat. “Okay, to bed with you.”

Logan pulled away. “No, I’ve got to pick this up first.”

Virgil grabbed his wrists. “Logan, you are covered in burning hot coffee and your fingers are cut from the glass.”

Logan looked down at himself. Just as Virgil said, the front of his shirt and his tie were completely soaked in coffee and his hands had shallow cuts all along them. “So it seems.”

Virgil stood, dragging Logan up with him. “That’s it.” Logan was pulled down the hall to the bedroom. He was sat on the bed and told to stay. Virgil went to the dresser and retrieved some star covered pajamas for Logan. 

Said clothes were thrust into his hands. “Go change and try to look for burns.” Virgil instructed. “I’m going to go clean up the mess.”

He left and Logan changed, trying to pay attention to the way his chest felt. Deciding he didn’t know, he just left his shirt off and went into the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror as he tried to disinfect his hands as best he could. He saw an angry redness along his chest but nothing looked too bad.

“Logan, where did you go?” Virgil’s voice called.

“I’m in here.” He responded as he opened the medicine cabinet. 

Virgil appeared in the doorway and sighed again, a common theme of the night. “Sit on the counter, I'll take care of this.”

Logan shrugged and did as he was told. Virgil came over and grabbed the burn cream, gently smearing it across Logan’s chest and working it in as lightly as he could. “Are you alright?” He asked as he worked. 

Logan shrugged. “My pain receptors don’t seem to be working at the moment.”

Virgil slapped his leg. “Why can you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Not notice that you gave yourself first degree burns but still use fifty-cent words.”

“I don’t know.”

They settled into a comfortable silence, Logan’s thoughts drifting. This kind of silence was never awkward when it came to Virgil. With anyone else, they would have tried to fill the silence with useless small talk. With Virgil, the silence was mutual, both confident in where they stood with the other.

His thoughts turned to studying the man in front of him. The way one of Logan’s old hoodies was being used as a night shirt, the hair getting into his eyes that required him to constantly blow it out of his eyes, the way his eye shadow framed those gorgeous brown eyes. Logan could easily get lost in those eyes if he chose. Virgil’s tongue was sticking out slightly as he took bandages to Logan’s fingers, making sure to get all the glass out of them beforehand.

Before Logan knew it, Virgil was pulling away with a triumphant smile. “All done!” He turned and started to pack up the first aid kit. Logan was just now aware that Virgil had slipped between his legs to get closer to him. 

Wrapping his arms around the taller man, Logan smiled. “Gotcha.”

Virgil chuckled. “That you did. Now, do you want to go to sleep?”

Logan shook his head, releasing Virgil in favor of slipping off the counter. “I’ve still got work to do.”

Virgil put his fists on his hips, blocking the door. “Logan, you’ve been awake for a week straight. You are going to get into that bed and sleep if I have to drag you there myself.”

Logan smiled. “Well, that wouldn’t be too bad.”

Virgil grabbed his arm and walked to the bed, pushing the sleep deprived scientist down onto it. He flopped down on top of him, legs tangling together. “Sleep.”

“Yes, sir.” Logan brought his arms up to wrap back around Virgil’s waist, dropping a kiss down on top of Virgil’s head before drifting off, comfortable in the knowledge that he was there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear this was supposed to be angst.


	7. Dragged by the Ankle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Blood, abuse, chains, bruises.

The sound of a door opening was heard, causing Logan to shiver. He wasn’t sure he could survive another round. Footsteps on stairs was all the warning he had before the room was flooded with light. He winced, instinctively flinching backwards. Pryce came in, a needle and blood bag held in his hand. “Now then, pet. All I need today is three quarts.”

Logan shuffled farther back, shaking his head. “I don’t have enough to give.”

Pryce snarled. “What have I told you about talking back?” He leaned down and grabbed the chain attached to Logan’s ankle, dragging him closer. 

Logan let out a pained shout when his ankle was dragged, the metal of the cuff digging into his flesh. He didn’t have the strength to fight back, his broken nails scrabbling on the ground for any friction to pull himself away. He lost the battle, Pryce dragging him forward until his boot was able to rest on Logan’s ankle.

“Are you going to behave now or am I going to have to use more force?”

Logan shook his head, tears involuntarily gathering at the corners of his eyes to leave tracks on his dirt covered face. “No, I’ll be good. I promise.”

Pryce’s wings flared behind him in satisfaction, light glinting off his feathers. “Good. Now, present your arm.”

Logan held out his arm, Pryce roughly shoving his sleeve up to show the myriad of bruises that clustered around his elbow. He was kind enough to at least swab an unbruised area with an alcohol wipe before he shoved the needle in. Logan bit back a whimper of pain at that, trying to keep as silent as possible. 

The blood started flowing, coming out thin and golden, unlike any normal human blood. Logan guessed that was why Pryce wanted it, because it was different and special. Logan knew that his blood could kill if dripped on a living being. He also knew that his tears could heal anyone but himself. That was a secret his kind kept close, refusing to share it with the world. 

It didn’t take long for the three quart bag to be filled. Pryce jerked the needle out of Logan’s arm, stepping back with a satisfied smile on his face. Logan’s vision was blurry as he struggled to stay conscious long enough for Pryce to leave. 

Pryce smiled, patting Logan’s cheek. “There, that wasn’t so difficult, now was it?”

Logan shook his head because that was what was required of him. He tried to ignore the ringing in his ears as he shook his head, tried to ignore his tunnel vision, the way he felt so cold even though the room was well insulated. 

Pryce stepped to the stairs, pausing to look back at Logan. “You did well today. Dinner will be given in a few hours.”

Logan managed to croak out a ‘thank you’ before Pryce nodded and continued up, the lights turning off as he ascended. The door at the top slammed shut and Logan’s vision faded to nothing as he was embraced by unconsciousness. He remained there, huddled against the wall, elbow still leaking trickles of golden blood so thin a human would think he was anemic.


	8. Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: wounds, ambiguous mentions of torture and captivity, food.

Logan was on the sofa, trying to get some reading done when it’d happened. He could hear screaming coming from the bedroom. Tossing his book aside without bothering to mark his place, he sprinted to the door, struggling to open it in his haste. When he did manage to burst into the room, his chest was heaving in an attempt to get enough air in. 

Virgil was still on the bed but the blankets were tangled around his legs, trapping him where he was even as he struggled. It looked like he was trying to get off the bed, almost face planting in the process. Logan strode over and tried to wrap his arms around Virgil comfortingly. Instead, Virgil streamed again and pulled away. 

Seeing his lover’s eyes wide open and unseeing frightened Logan, especially as he didn’t seem to recognize him, continuing his screaming. Logan tried to touch him again, this time gently fighting back when Virgil tried to hit him. He managed to grab him and hold him close, running his fingers through his damp hair and murmuring to him. “Virgil, Virgil, you’re fine. Calm down, please, you’re okay. You’re not there anymore and you’re never going back. You’re home, you’re safe.”

Virgil relaxed in his arms, not as if he were comforted but as if he had lost his will to fight, as if he’d given up. Logan simply held him, rocking side to side as he kept whispering words of endearment to him that were meant to calm him.

Eventually, Virgil’s eyes closed again and his breathing went from ragged to even. He seemed to have calmed down enough so Logan gently laid him back down and left, leaving the door open behind him. He grabbed the book that was flung to the floor, flipping the pages to find his spot as he walked back to the bedroom.

He slipped under the covers, Virgil shifting to cuddle close to him. Logan carefully positioned him, making sure that his injuries weren’t being made worse. They stayed like that for a while, Logan providing comfort and trying to keep the nightmares at bay with his general presence. 

It wasn’t until after he’d finished his book that Logan slipped away from the bed again, replacing his presence with a pillow. He snuck into the kitchen and started to make a small meal. He finished it just as the sounds of stirring came from the other room. 

“Logan?” Virgil’s voice called out.

Logan smiled as he turned the stove off and walked back into the bedroom. “I’m here. How are you feeling?” He slipped an arm beneath Virgil’s knees, the other going to cradle his shoulders as he lifted him gently, trying to avoid jostling his wounds. 

Virgil wrapped his arms around Logan’s shoulders, his head coming to rest on Logan’s shoulder. “I’m doing better than I was a few weeks ago.”

Logan smiled. “That’s good. Progress is progress. Do you remember anything from your nap?” He made his way into the living room and set Virgil down on the couch before he went and grabbed the food from the kitchen.

Virgil shrugged, carefully drawing his knees to his chest. “Kind of.”

Logan nodded. “I will say, you gave me quite the scare earlier. I’m surprised the neighbors didn’t try to check on us. I’m glad everything is fine now and that it was simply a nightmare.” He put a hand over Virgil’s, stroking his thumb along the back. 

Virgil smiled, leaning into the back of the couch as his hand turned up to hold Logan’s. “I’m glad I’m here with you.” He said softly, just barely above a whisper.

Logan mirrored his smile, his free hand coming up to cup Virgil’s cheek. “You’re never going back there again if I can help it.”

Virgil leaned into the palm on his cheek, turning his head to kiss it. “I know.”

They descended into silence as they ate, searching for a movie to watch.


	9. Ghostly/Demonic Possession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Possession, demons.

Virgil stood outside the house, his best friends at his side. “I don’t know guys, I don’t think we should be doing this.”

“Why?” Brian asked. “Are you scared of a few ghosts?”

Virgil shook his head, shooting him a glare. “I’m afraid of a condemned building collapsing on top of me the moment I breathe wrong, doofus.”

Andy let out a snort on his other side. “Does it help any that this house isn’t condemned?”

“That’s not what the stories say.”

“The stories also say that there are demons in there waiting to eat your soul.” Brian argued back. “Are you going to believe everything you read on the internet?”

Virgil stared at him. “Brian, we are literally here because you want to see those demons waiting to eat your soul and you want to use that as an example for not believing everything on the internet?” He deadpanned.

Andy full on laughed at that. “He’s got you there, buddy.”

Brian threw his hands in the air. “Are we going to go in or not, you cowards?”

Virgil squared his shoulders. “Of course we are.” He took a deep breath, and walked into the house, the others right on his heels.

It looked like any other abandoned house an urban explorer would find. A layer of dust covered everything and the floorboards creaked with every step. They found what must have been the dining room, a long table covered in a white cloth that had grayed with time, chairs placed evenly around it, and a chandelier hanging from the middle of the ceiling. 

Brian giggled and pulled out a piece of chalk and some candles that he arranged in the shape of a pentagram with a goat’s head inside. He placed a bowl of mixed ingredients that Virgil couldn’t identify from his place by the door. Finally, he took a scrap of paper out of his bag and set it off to the side. 

Virgil shook his head. “What are you doing?”

“Getting ready to summon a demon.” 

Andy stood inside the room but not as close as Brian was to the table. “Is that really the best idea? Do you even know which demon is going to be summoned?”

Brian shook his head. “This is a first come, first served kind of summons.”

“Don’t be such a worry wart.” Brian teased. 

Virgil sighed and walked over to stand on Brian’s left. “I just want this known that it’s not a great idea.”

“Alright then, how about you do it?” Brian grinned as he turned to face Virgil, who blanched.

Andy put a hand out. “Brian, I don’t think we should force him. If he doesn’t want to do it, he doesn’t have to.”

Virgil shrugged, trying to prove that he wasn’t scared. “I’ll do it. I just want the record to show that I think this is stupid and a waste of time.” He set his hands lightly on the table, reading over the words to the summons carefully. He knew that the slightest of stutters could cause it to go horribly wrong. It was a fairly easy one, short and simple. Within no time, he had said it perfectly.

The temperature change was the first sign that something had gone wrong. Andy’s gaze traveled along the table before looking up at Brian. “Did you remember the salt circle?”

Brian smacked his forehead. “I knew I forgot something at home.”

Their bickering continued as the temperature dropped. Virgil could no longer hear their squabbles as the wind howled. The other two seemed oblivious to the wind as time seemed to slow for Virgil.

A loud, booming voice spoke next to his left ear. “Foolish mortals!” Virgil jumped, not that the other two noticed. They had gone still as stone. “Daring to summon me, of all demons!”

Virgil decided to be brave for once in his life. “Who are you, exactly?” He thought, thinking that if the voice was inside his head he shouldn’t have to speak aloud for it to hear him.

The voice had the audacity to be offended. “Why, I’m Remus, archduke of the demon court.” He paused, raising Virgil’s right hand. It hadn’t sunk in until that moment that Virgil was possessed by a demon. “Is there something wrong with your flesh cage?” The booming voice echoed from Virgil’s right.

Virgil gave a mental shrug, unable to move his own limbs. “Define wrong with it?”

“It is numb, like there is nothing going on. At the same time, it feels like static.”

“Oh! I dunno. I just get like that sometimes.”

“It hurts slightly. The top of the meat cage is pulsing with pain. So is the spine.”

“The headache is fine. The spine is due to bad posture.”

“Why is there a stinging in your elbows?”

Virgil shrugged again. “I don’t know! My body just does that.”

“I don’t like it.”

Virgil gave the mental picture of his arms crossed, a stern look on his face. “Deal with it. I’m not letting you possess one of the others.”

Remus laughed as he manipulated Virgil’s limbs once more. “As if I need your permission to do anything.”

“You’ve got me there.” Virgil responded. “So, what are you going to do with me now that you’ve got a flesh cage of your own?”

Remus tilted the head back and forth. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead, actually.” He thought for a few more minutes, humming the tune to a song long faded from any living being’s memory. “I guess I should just let you go.”

Virgil would have widened his eyes or leaned his head back a bit if he were in control. “That easily?” He was hesitant to ask in case Remus changed his mind.

“Yeah, this flesh cage isn’t comfortable for me. Maybe I’ll visit you once I get a flesh cage that feels right.”

“Remus?” Virgil asked. When he got a hum in response, he continued. “Can you be seen in your spirit form or do you need a human host to stay in this plane of existence?”

“I can be seen by those I’ve already possessed, yes.”

Virgil hummed happily. “You can come visit if you want?”

“Are you inviting a demon into your home?”

Virgil really wished he could shrug right now. “I mean, you’ve already rejected me as a host so I don’t see how it could get worse. I mean, you seem lonely and I don’t mind having a poltergeist as a friend.”

“Deal, so long as you never compare me to those measly peasants again.”


	10. Damaged Wings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: captivity, allusions to torture, wounds.

Virgil peaked his head out from behind a crate. “Is it safe?”

When Patton didn’t respond, he looked around the small enclosure, hoping to catch a glimpse of the fragile human. He saw him curled in the corner, knees tucked to his chest and forehead pressed to them. Virgil scrambled across the room, sliding the last few inches to sit under Patton’s legs. 

Patton looked between his knees at the fae who couldn’t be more than a foot tall. “What are you doing out?” He all but hissed in a whisper.

Virgil’s wings flared out in distress. “You were being so quiet, I didn’t know what was happening!”

Patton sighed. “The guard is still here. If you’re going to stay with me, be quiet.”

Virgil nodded, settling against the wall with one hand holding onto Patton’s torn and dirty sweater. They stayed like that for a while, sitting in comforting silence as they waited for the guard to leave.

He finally did, only to come back with another guard a few minutes later. The keys both had on their belts rattled loudly as they walked. One lifted his keys, inserting one into the lock and opening the cell door. Patton scrambled to his feet, careful to not step on Virgil and to keep him out of sight.

Virgil didn’t like the way they were roughly handling Patton so flew up and got in the first guards face with the cry of, “Pick on someone your own size!”

The guard released Patton in surprise, going so far as to take a step back. Virgil turned to try to deal with the second guard but the first had already recovered, seizing him by a wing. “Mind your own business.” The guard snarled as he flicked his wrist, sending Virgil sailing through the air to collide with the wall. 

He tried to get up but let out a cry of pain when he felt the tear in his wing, the other bent at an unnatural angle. The guards paid him no mind as they grabbed Patton’s arms and dragged him out of the cell. Patton put up a good fight, kicking and screaming, but it was no use. Virgil could only watch as he disappeared around the corner.

Patton hoped Virgil would be alive when he got back. Virgil hoped Patton would come back.


	11. Damaged Vocal Cords

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: food mention.

Patton smiled as he heard his husband singing in the shower. That smile didn’t last long, quickly turning to a frown when he actually managed to get a good listen to it. He sounded off, like he had a cold or something. Patton knew this wasn’t right as he’d been healthy at breakfast just a half hour ago. Shaking the thought away, he walked by to grab what he wanted. 

When Patton saw him next, Roman was towel drying his hair in sweats. Patton smiled, reaching up to kiss him on the cheek. “How was your shower.” 

Roman rubbed at his throat. “I was a little pitchy if I’m being honest.”

Patton frowned in sympathy. “What were you singing? It sounded new.”

“It was from a new musical that I got a part for.”

Patton gasped, throwing his arms around him. “I’m so happy for you!”

Roman smiled as he hugged him back. “I am too. I’m just afraid that it might be out of my natural range.”

“Well, be sure to take care of your voice and it should be fine, right?”

Roman nodded. “Yeah, maybe.”

Throughout the next few months, he continued to practice his songs and lines. Many of them were in a whole other octave than what he was used to so were hard for him to reach. He still managed to do it but it required a lot of tea and honey to do it. Patton was not happy with the state of his voice by the time they got to opening night. He begged him to take a break but Roman said he wasn’t willing to let the whole cast down.

“But, Roman, what about your understudy? Can’t he go on instead?”

“No!” Roman shouted, eyes flashing. “I can do this!”

Patton sighed softly, putting his hands up. “Okay, but you are resting for a month as soon as this is over. No musicals, no singing, not even unnecessary talking. Okay?”

Roman glared for a few more seconds as if he were trying to prove a point but soon relented. “Fine.” Patton gave him a hug and a good luck kiss and he was out onto the stage.

Roman’s voice was hoarse for weeks after that. Once it hit a month, Patton dragged him to see a doctor. They got a look at his vocal cords with the help of a scope going down his nose. The doctor agreed with Patton. “You can’t be doing any major strain on your vocal cords for a good while. If you keep abusing them like this, you’re going to have to stop singing entirely.”

Roman was, understandably, devastated. It was hard at first for him to stop singing around the house, Patton having to remind him to be quiet. After a while, the house no longer rang with his voice belting out whatever song came to his mind in that moment. Patton missed it, missed the way the house felt alive with Roman in it, missed being able to know where he was just by the sound of his voice, but knew it was for the best that this happened. He knew it would all turn out fine in the end if Roman could restrain himself for long enough.

Soon it became clear that they would not be able to survive without Roman’s paycheck from the theatre. So, he got a job at the local flower shop. It gave him the opportunity to bring home the flowers that weren’t good enough to sell or were too old to sell. It didn’t help that he had to see the sadness in Roman’s eyes, the expression that said he was upset he couldn’t provide for them anymore.

So, Patton wanted to do something for him. After their most recent visit to the doctor, who told them that his voice wasn’t getting any better, Patton took Roman to a fancy restaurant. That helped for a bit, Roman getting to feel fancy. It wasn’t enough to keep him content forever, nor was it enough to fully erase that look in his eyes.

The next visit to the doctor told them that Roman’s vocal cords were worse and would probably never recover at this stage. That was the final straw for Patton. His hands gestured wildly as he paced the living room. “What are you doing to yourself, Roman?”

Roman hung his head. “I’ve been trying to work with a vocal trainer.”

Patton paused at that, anger dissipating until all that was left was the concern that was at the root of it all. “Oh, honey. I thought we agreed to talk about this together.”

Roman nodded, taking a deep breath. “I know. I just-” He cut himself off, eyes directed downwards in shame.

Patton knelt by his side, cupping his cheek and turning his head up. “Come on, darling, talk to me. What does the light of my life have to say?”

Roman’s eyes were full of tears. “I wanted to be able to take care of you. That was why I pushed myself to do the play even when I knew I didn’t have the range for it. I wanted to prove it to myself.”

Patton sighed. “Roman, darling, you have nothing to prove. I love you for you. I married you for you. Not your voice, not your acting skills, you. I married you for the way you spin me around the living room like it’s the 1500’s, the way you look at me like I’ve hung the stars, the light you get in your eyes when you talk about acting or writing or the book you’ve been reading. I married you for the feeling of safety I get when you’re in the same room, the millions of things that make you who you are. I would never be disappointed in you.”

Roman leaned into the hand, closing his eyes. After a minute of just existing in the same space, he opened them again. “Okay. I’ll look for jobs in plays that don’t have any singing, or at least none done by my character. Maybe that will help with this.”

Patton’s face curved into a smile tainted with sadness and guilt. “I know this is going to be hard for you. We can talk to the doctor and voice therapist about seeing if there is something we can do to help you regain the ability to sing. You’ll have to promise not to go out of your range at all, though.”

Roman promised and they sealed the deal with a kiss.


	12. Bedside Vigil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Hospital, coma, car crash mentioned, wounds, mentions of animals.

Virgil pushed the doors open, taking a frantic glance around before making his way to the reception’s desk. Every inch of his posture screamed haste and anxiety was pouring off him in waves. “When can I see my father?”

The receptionist smiled as she was trained to do. “May I know his name and yours, sir?”

Virgil nodded. “His name is Patton Storm. I’m his son, Virgil Storm.”

The receptionist nodded, the keys tapping being the only sound for a minute or two that felt much longer. “He’s in room 205.”

That was all Virgil needed to know before he practically careened down the hall, ignoring the receptionists call to wait. He took the stairs two at a time, too anxious to wait for the elevator. He tried to walk down the hall but couldn’t do anything less than a slow jog as he looked at the room numbers. He came to 205 and pushed it open, a hand going to his mouth to stifle the cry. 

Lying on a bed, bruises trailing down his sides and tubes coming out of his face, was his father. Virgil blinked back the tears in his eyes as he moved to sit in the chair next to the bed. He reached out his hand to hold Patton’s but paused at the last second. Just as he was pulling it back, the door opened. A woman in a lab coat stepped inside, clipboard in hand. 

“Virgil Storm, I presume?”

Virgil just nodded, eyes moving back to watch his father’s prone form. 

She sighed. “How much do you know?”

“I was told he was in a car accident, I don’t know much else.”

She nodded, looking back at her clipboard. “That is correct, he was in a car crash. His car skid on the icy road and collided with a tree, he was the only one injured. He has severe cranial trauma that has caused him to go into a coma. In addition to that, he has a few broken ribs and a broken leg. His brain is swollen and there is internal bleeding.”

Virgil nodded, brow furrowing. “Do we know when he’s going to wake up?”

“Unfortunately not. Do you have anyone you need to inform? I understand you were Mr. Storm’s only emergency contact.”

“The only other person who would care is still halfway across the country. I got here as soon as I could but my fiancé still has a few days left on his case before he follows me so no, there’s no one to call.” He didn’t take his eyes off his father as he spoke, the only movement he made being to lean forward and clasp his hand, and the doctor just left after a few minutes.

Virgil sat like that, not moving from that chair, looking for all the world that there was nothing more important than watching his father, for hours. He didn’t move, he didn’t speak, as nurses routinely came in to check on Patton. He was eventually ushered out of the hospital after visiting hours were over. He made his way to Patton’s house, touring it with the smile that came from nostalgia. 

The next morning, he was back in the chair, his hand slipping into his father’s. He spoke this time, telling him all about his life and his cats and his fiancé. He told him all about the neighborhood he lived in, told him about the dogs that greeted him, told him everything he could think of. He had to leave to grab food but was back in that seat as soon as possible.

The third day found him in the same seat as soon as visiting hours started. Now he was starting to get desperate. He was pleading with his father to wake up. “Dad, please, wake up soon.” He kept saying it over and over again. Soon, even that dissolved. His next words were spoken with the broken voice of a terrified child. “Daddy, please.”

He spent a few hours like that, crying into his sleeve as he held tightly to Patton’s hand. When all his tears were spent and his eyes were starting to droop in exhaustion, he carefully crawled into the bed beside Patton, laying his head on his chest to remind himself of the still beating heart and still breathing lungs that laid inside. He fell asleep to the sound of the machine drowned out by the comforting sound of his father’s heartbeat.


	13. Headache/migraine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: sleep deprivation, overworking, headache, allusions to a fever.

Roman woke with a pounding in his head and only three hours of sleep for the week under his belt. He was preparing for a big play and needed all the prep time he could get. So, he jumped in the shower to wake him up, grabbed a cup of coffee in the hopes of staving off the headache, and rushed out the door to get to the theatre. 

His stage manager wasn’t there yet, nor was anyone else in the crew. Instead, he ran some lines alone in his dressing room until he heard movement outside. He waited a few more minutes, making sure a few more people were filtering in, before he emerged. He made his way onto the stage but had to pause, closing his eyes for a second in response to the bright lights, hoping the momentary darkness would dull the stabbing behind his eyes.

A hand was on his back and he opened his eyes to find Logan, his stage manager, looking concerned. “Are you alright, Roman?”

Roman nodded, pushing the pain to the back of his thoughts. “Ship shape, specs!” He said with a cheeriness he didn’t feel before walking onto the stage. He didn’t see the way Logan’s eyes tracked his movements, didn’t notice the way concern was etched into his face.

Roman moved into position, wincing slightly at the sharpening of the pain. Was it just him or was the room hotter than usual? He didn’t pay that thought any mind as he focused on his lines and moves, needing to get this step sequence perfect. He still hadn’t been able to do the dance at the same time as the singing but it didn’t stop him from trying. 

A few minutes later, he collapsed to the ground, out of breath. His chest was heaving as he tried to suck in air. Feet came to stand next to him, legs kneeling, a water bottle was pressed into his hand. He raised his hand, pressing the sweating bottle to his even sweatier forehead. He closed his eyes, relishing the brief relief from the heat.

“You should go home.” Logan’s voice sounded from next to him, the owner of the kneeling legs.

Roman groaned as he sat up, head spinning and pounding from the motion. “I’m fine.” He said, cracking open the water and draining half the bottle in one go before pulling up for air.

Logan’s hand reached out to feel Roman’s forehead. “Roman, you’re burning up. How are you feeling?”

Roman pushed him away, shoving himself to his feet but having to close his eyes against the sudden spinning. Logan’s hand appeared on his elbow, grounding him. Logan asked him another question but he wasn’t paying attention, instead simply breathing through the pain.

“Roman?” Logan’s voice was raised as he cut through the fog in Roman’s mind.

Roman turned to look at him, eyes blurry. “What?”

Logan sighed, hand moving from his elbow to wrap around his back. He led him off stage and into his dressing room. Taking advantage of the dial switch, he turned the lights to the lowest setting and left the room. Roman staggered over to the couch and sat down hard, letting his head fall against the back and his eyes slip closed. He pressed the heels of his hands into his temples in the hopes of evening out the pressure in his head.

The door opening quietly, followed by the sound of feet on carpet, was the only warning he got before a cool cloth was placed on his forehead. Roman let out a groan as the heat from his skin dissipated slightly. Another water bottle was pressed into his hand. A hand patted his shoulder and Logan’s voice whispered. “Get some rest.” Before the footsteps sounded again and the door swished open before softly clicking closed.


	14. Adrenaline Crash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: panic attack.

Virgil paced his room, waiting for the call he knew would come. His steps were stiff, shoulders unconsciously drawn up closer to his ears. He knew this simple social interaction would decide his fate for the next few months and that put him on edge. Hence, the pacing. 

The phone in his hand rang and he jumped, scrambling to answer it. He walked over to his desk as he greeted the advisor on the other end of the line. He shuffled the papers, pressing the phone between his shoulder and ear as he did so. His heart was going a mile a minute and he could feel his palms already getting damp. He found the page he’d wanted and began the conversation in earnest, trying to get it over with. It was always hard to set up his classes for the semester, even worse when he didn’t have his dad to do it with him.

It was over and done with in half an hour but he was feeling a panic attack coming even as he tried to skip the usual polite small talk to simply hang up. He feigned a minor emergency, saying he heard someone at the door.

By the time he put the phone down, his hands were shaking and he could feel his heart beating so hard he was sure it had to be colliding with his ribs on some beats. He squeezed himself into the corner, knees pulled to his chest as he wrapped his arms around them and pressed his forehead to them. He tried to breathe evenly, tried to count the seconds, tried all the coping mechanisms he could think of in that moment. 

His arms squeezed his legs, tightening in a way that he knew would leave bruises. He stayed like that for a while, trying to breathe and trying to take his mind off the thing that so many other people could do without thinking. He tried to move his thoughts away from the actions that most people do without having a panic attack afterwards, the actions that they do without blinking an eye as they live normal lives, the actions people are capable of doing when they aren’t crippled by a damaged alarm system.

The sound of a door opening about an hour later found Virgil still sitting there, knuckles white. “Starlight, I’m home!” Logan’s voice rang through their shared apartment. Virgil didn’t respond, couldn’t respond. “Darling?” Footsteps made their way into the bedroom, a sigh of sympathy whispering out when he stopped in the doorway.

Virgil heard the rustle of clothes before a hand was on his head, fingers threading through his hair. Virgil leaned into the touch, grateful for the grounding. His hair was swept up off his forehead, a kiss being placed there instead. Neither spoke for another few minutes, just letting Virgil calm down. Eventually, his breathing slowed and his eyelids grew heavy.

He leaned more fully into Logan, who simply picked him up. “How was your day?” He asked.

Virgil simply grunted, turning so he could press his face into Logan’s shoulder. Logan chuckled, the vibrations through his chest calming Virgil even further. “That bad, huh?”

Virgil just nodded. Logan settled down and Virgil looked up to see they were on the couch. Reaching back, Logan grabbed the throw blanket they kept folded over the back of the couch. He spread it out, making sure to cover Virgil’s whole body. Virgil shifted until he was comfortable on Logan’s lap, placing his head back on his boyfriend’s shoulder when he was done.

“What are we doing now?” Virgil asked, voice heavy with exhaustion. 

Logan chuckled, dropping a kiss onto his head as he grabbed the remote. “I’m turning on the nature documentary you fell asleep to last night and you are going to do that again.”

“Have a panic attack?” Virgil asked.

Logan looked down at him, steel hidden behind a concerned gaze. “Sleep. You are going to sleep. You’re dealing with an adrenaline crash right now, which means you are going through adrenal fatigue. You’re going to sleep whether you like it or not.”

Virgil nodded, snuggling closer. “Thank you. For being here for me.”

Logan just smiled, a hand coming up to rub Virgil’s back as the narrator began speaking.


	15. Human Shield

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Hostage, weapons, threats of harm (to both self and another), mentions of death.

Remus knew how to do his job and he did it well. He was efficient and had a high success rate. That doesn’t mean the ones he failed don’t punch him in the gut almost as soon as he wakes up every morning, but it does mean that he tries especially hard to keep that particular number as low as he can. 

He walked into the precinct, a coffee in hand. He cheerily greeted his fellow officers before settling behind his desk. He checked his calendar and saw that his monthly lunch with his brother was scheduled for that day. He buckled down and got some paperwork from his last case done. By the time he got half the forms filled out, he was getting up to refill his coffee. Thus, the day progressed as any other. Remus went about the morning, not knowing that today was one of the cases that would stay with him for the rest of his life. 

The call came just as he got his second cup of coffee, the scalding liquid spilling across the floor as the lid popped off. Officer Chen shook his shoulder, snapping him out of it as the call repeated, saying the address first before the rest of the message. “We’ve got a B and E with possible hostage situation in a residential area, could someone send a negotiator?” 

Chen stared at him. “Are you alright?” Her expression said she cared but itched to get out the door. 

Remus brushed her off, leaving the coffee to be cleaned up. “I’m fine, let’s go.” He heard her footsteps behind him so went along with her, not having his own cruiser. 

Unfortunately, that meant that they had the whole ride to do nothing but talk. Chen glanced over at him during the stop to get out of the parking lot. “Wanna talk about that reaction?”

Remus took a deep breath. “My brother lives there.”

Chen frowned. “Does this mean you’re emotionally compromised? Do we need to call in another negotiator?”

Remus shook his head, his initial panic being pushed to the back of his brain as he focused on what he knew of the bank. “Quite the opposite. I'm a grown adult, I can handle my emotions. As I know the area and the hostage, it gives us the advantage. Not to mention, the robbers will be scared and frantic. They obviously didn’t do this in the time they wanted or I would not be here.”

Chen shook her head. “Sometimes it’s scary how fast you change from play to work. It’s almost like a switch in your head gets flipped.”

Remus smirked. “If I was chaotic all the time, it’d become predictable and boring. It’s only when I’m random that I keep you on your toes.”

Chen nodded but before she could respond, they’d arrived. Remus hopped out of the car before it’d even fully come to a stop, waving away the bulletproof vest offered to him. He took the elevator up to the floor mentioned and checked that he had a packet of gum in his back pocket before approaching the superior officer. “Officer Miller, what do I need to know?”

“He’s shooting at everything that gets even near the door. He’s got the hostage on a balcony and specifically requested a negotiator. We’ve already informed him you’re on site.” Miller shifted his weight. “I heard your brother’s voice call out the one time the robber picked up the phone.”

Remus nodded, not allowing the information to get to him and keeping up his blank façade. “Anything else? Is this all I have to go off?” He let irritation seep into his voice instead of the fear that sat at the base of his throat, waiting to choke him the second he let himself think of Roman. 

Miller apologetically shrugged. “That’s all we have for now. You’ll be informed as soon as we know anything else.”

Remus shook his head. “I’ll be out there with him! I’ll know more about him in the next five minutes than you’ve learned in the past ten that you’ve been here! If needed, _I’ll_ let _you_ know more.”

Miller nodded and once again tried to offer a vest. “At least put it on under the shirt?”

Remus shook his head. “It’s a psychological thing. He’ll see I’m unarmed and defenseless and let his guard down, even if he doesn’t realize it.” With that, he turned on his heel and threw his hands into the air. He could feel the almost manic mindset he always got descend on him like a familiar blanket. He opened the balcony door and stepped out, eyes darting around.

He immediately had to dodge to the side to avoid a bullet. He took cover behind an overturned table, scanning the balcony. Most of the furniture was knocked over, some of it floating in the pool. Two people were standing near the edge, one had an arm around the other like a vise and a gun to his head. The hostage, Remus knew, was Roman. He had no idea who the shooter was.

He decided to start small, popping his head above the table edge and giving the man a large, toothy grin. “Hi, my name is Remus. What’s your name?”

The man glared at him, pressing the gun tighter to Roman’s head. “Daniel.”

“Okay, Daniel. I’ve come to help you. I need you to talk to me, tell me what’s wrong. How can I get you out of this?” He reached into his back pocket and grabbed a stick of gum, already knowing this was going to be a long one.

Remus inched around the table, approaching slowly. Daniel spoke. “A year ago today, my brother jumped from a balcony while under your care! Now, I’m going to take your brother away from you.”

Remus nodded, pausing in his forward movement. “Okay, that’s fair.”

Roman called out in surprise. “How is that fair?!”

Remus moved a bit farther forward before answering. “I mean, there was that one time you locked me out of the house.”

Daniel growled, jabbing the gun against Roman’s temple. “Shut up!” He hissed to his hostage.

Roman’s eyes went wide with thinly veiled terror as he complied. Remus sent him a sympathetic look before moving his eyes back to Daniel’s. “Okay, no banter. I can respect that. Daniel, I regret what happened that day. Trust me, it haunts my every waking hour. I don’t need to imagine the pain you must have gone through. But this,” he gestured at the balcony as a whole, “this isn’t the healthiest way to process your pain.”

“It’s the only way I know!” Daniel snarled even as his arm loosened from around Roman. 

Remus nodded, now within a few steps of them. “I know, but it doesn’t have to be. If we step away from this now, everything will be fine. Nothing too bad will have happened, we can fix this. Please, just give me the gun.” He held it out, palm up, as a silent offering of peace.

Daniel hesitated for a moment. Finally, sighed and placed the gun into the waiting palm, releasing Roman. He put his hands in the air. Remus allowed himself to grip Roman’s arm briefly before setting the gun down and moving to stand near Daniel. The medic came over and guided Roman away for a check up while Officer Chen walked over to Remus and Daniel. “Do I need to cuff him?”

Remus shrugged, one hand resting on Daniel’s shoulder. “I mean, no one’s dead. Besides minor property damage, is there anything to cuff him for?”

Chen looked at him like he was stupid. “He had a hostage and threatened to jump with him. I think that’s enough to lock him up.”

Remus nodded, turning to face Daniel. Riffling around in his pocket, he pulled out two business cards. “Call my brother in law for a lawyer and the other brother in law for a therapist. You’ll be fine.”

With that, he popped his gum and walked off. He knew he was going to have to process what had just happened, knew that wasn’t going to be pretty. For now, he had to watch over his twin and call his baby brother.


	16. Vampiric Draining

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: blood loss, blood, hospital mention, death, wounds.

Logan glanced over at the shivering human in the corner. He knew he wasn’t much help when it came to warmth but the least he could do is try. He stood, swaying from the lack of nutrients, and made his way across the cell to him. His landing was a bit too hard but he didn’t care, focusing instead on the human. 

“Can I help at all?”

Virgil didn’t respond, just held his arms open. Logan slid into them, comfortably settling against the human as if the vampire could be a blanket if he simply tried hard enough. He shivered at the smell of the human’s blood seeping from a cut by his palm. Instead of following his nose, he buried his face in Virgil’s chest, willing away the desire to drink.

Virgil’s hand ran through his hair. “You okay there, L?” His voice sounded strained and tired.

Logan shivered again at the nickname, at the love that had bloomed in his cold heart for Virgil. “I’m fine, Virge. Nothing I can’t handle.” He kept his tone soft, putting as much love into it as he could.

Virgil’s hand paused in his hair. “You don’t mean that. You haven’t meant it for the past three weeks.”

Logan used his forearm on the ground to push himself up, wanting to look Virgil in the eye. “Of course I do. If it keeps you safe, I mean it.” His tone took on a hard edge as he tried to get his point across.

Virgil smiled. “I know you need to feed.” His hand came up to rest on Logan’s cheek, the cut just under his nose.

Logan pushed it away. “I’m not taking it from you. You don’t have enough as it is.”

Virgil nodded. “You will. At least then you’d be strong enough to escape.”

Logan felt tears on his cheeks when Virgil swiped a thumb across it. “Is this really what you want? Virgil, I don’t know if I can stop once I start. I might drain you dry.” The tears were coming faster now. “Please, I love you too much, don’t ask me to do this!”

Virgil smiled, leaning forward to kiss his lips gently. “I love you too, which is why I’m telling you to do this. Come on, Logan, think logically. This is the only way either of us are getting out of here.”

Logan didn’t like it, but he didn’t have to. He gave Virgil a whispered, “I love you,” before sinking his fangs into the human’s neck. 

He knew how much it took to drain a human dry, he also knew just how much a human could give before they passed out. With this knowledge, he pulled away just before Virgil passed out. Virgil gives him a weak smile. “Feeling any better, L?”

Logan nodded, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. “I think it’s best if you rest now.” He settled back down, stomach as full as he’d let it be, to rest his head on the human’s heart. He was terrified that it would stop beating at any second.

Virgil’s hand slipped back into Logan’s hair as he fell asleep. Logan made sure the breathing was calm and even before sitting up and carefully moving away. He made his way to the barred door that he was too weak to do anything but rattle the first time they’d been thrown in the cell. Now, he ripped it straight off its hinges, the lock snapping under his force. 

The guard outside was able to get off a choked shout before Logan was upon him, taking the rest of what he needed. When he pulled off, the guard was drained of all blood. Logan’s stomach felt more full than it had in a hundred years. He turned back to look into the cell and found that Virgil was still asleep, blissfully unaware of the life Logan had just taken a few feet away.

Logan left him there, knowing he was safer there for the moment, and promised to come back for him. He charged up the stairs, his vision going red. He knew he found others in the building but he didn’t know who they were or what their role in this was. 

When he came out of his rage, bodies were strewn about him, their faces unrecognizable. He glanced around and saw no living being left. He spotted a doorway and sprinted over to it, finding his way back to the cell, picking up a blanket along the way.

He found Virgil just as he’d left him which sent a thrill of anxiety through his stomach. He knelt by the human, a hand reaching out to see if there were any signs of life. His pulse was weak but that was to be expected after being drained into unconsciousness. However, his breathing was even and steady. Logan decided to take that as a good sign and draped the blanket over him before lifting him as gently as possible. 

He tried not to jostle Virgil too much. Going back the way he came, he quickly found the exit and stumbled out of the building onto a busy street in broad daylight. A person brushed past, not even pausing or looking back to see if they needed any help. Logan ignored the rest of the crowd and the way the sun scorched his eyes. Instead, he made his way down the street, holding Virgil as close as possible.

In that moment, the only thing that he could think of was to find a hospital or a taxi to take them to a hospital, whichever came first. The taxi won and Logan slid into the back seat, Virgil in his lap. He leaned forward to speak to the driver. “Take us to the nearest hospital that does blood transfusions.”

The driver nodded and they were off. Logan sat back, brushing Virgil’s hair out of his face and checking his breathing. It was still steady and strong. Logan could have shouted for joy at having made it out of that hellhole. He hoped the money he’d found would be enough but that thought was quickly shoved to the back of his brain to deal with later. Right now, they were both alive and free and that’s all that mattered. 


	17. Can't Go Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is gender bent. Patty is Patton, Logan is Logan, Remi is Remy, Emily is Emile.  
> CW: Homophobia, religion used to wrongly justify said homophobia. Views of the character are not the views of the author.

Patty took a deep breath and put her fork down. “Mom, Dad? I’ve got something to tell you.”

Her mom paused her movements. “Yes, dear?”

Her father didn’t say anything, just looked at her. Patty took another deep breath, her hand gripping her leg to steady herself. “I’m gay.”

Her father’s face changed to anger faster than Patty had ever seen. “You dare to say that to me?”

Her mother put a hand out, resting it on her husband’s arm. “Now, dear, maybe she didn’t mean it.” She turned to Patty. “Did you, darling?”

Patty straightened her back, knowing what was going to come next. “Yes, I did mean it. I like girls and there’s nothing you can do to change that.”

The slap came before she could brace for it, her father leaning over the table with a hand raised. Patty pulled back, eyes watering, to see the stony anger on his face. “No child of mine will be gay in this house.”

Patty couldn’t hold back the glare. “You know,” she stood, calmly walking to the stairs, “you say your greatest commandments are to love, yet you persecute any form of love that doesn’t fit into your narrow and brittle mold.” She ran up the stairs, entering her room and packing quickly. She shoved her possessions into a backpack, filling it the rest of the way with clothes until she could barely close it.

When she got back down stairs, her father was waiting. “If you’re going to speak like that, you can leave.” His voice was thunderous.

Patty nodded, pulling on her shoes. “Then I guess this is goodbye, Father.”

It hadn’t occurred to the teen what she’d just done until the door slammed behind her, her father’s shout of, “And don’t think about coming back!” ringing in her ears.

She walked a ways down the road, pulling her phone from her back pocket and hitting the first speed dial, waiting for her best friend to pick up. “Logan?” Her voice sounded small, broken.

“Yes, Patty? How can I help?” Her voice was calm and even as ever, only a slight tremor to indicate that she was worried.

“I think I just got kicked out.” Patty’s voice wavered and she stopped walking in favor of simply sitting on the curb.

“Oh.” There was the sound of footsteps and a muffled conversation. “Mama says we can take you in for a while. Have you gotten far from your house?”

Patty glanced up at the nearby street sign. “Just to the end of the road.”

“Okay, stay there. Mom’s on her way to pick you up.”

Patty gave a noise of acknowledgement. They were silent for a bit, simply being in each other’s company. A car came around the corner and she stood, saying goodbye to Logan before climbing into her best friend’s mother's car. “Hey, Patty.” She said softly, an arm coming to curl around the teen and pull her close.

Patty leaned into the touch, grateful for it. “Hey, Mrs. Picani.”

“Please, how many times have I asked you to call me Remi?”

Patty giggled. “Okay, Remi.”

“That’s better.” The car started moving as she pulled onto the main road. “So, my wife and kid told me I needed to pick you up but I wasn’t told why. Do you wanna tell me?”

Patty told her as they traveled, her story coming to an end soon before they arrived at the Picani household. They made their way inside, the two teens going up to Logan’s room while Remi and Emily talked downstairs. Patty dropped her bag on the floor by the door, moving to hug Logan. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Logan hugged back, embrace tight. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

The two shuffled over to the bed, flopping down and wiggling until they were in a comfortable cuddling position. Logan moved her head, bonking it against Patty’s softly. “You wanna talk about it?”

Patty shrugged. “They didn’t say much this time around. I don’t know, I guess I just should have expected this.”

“How so?”

Another shrug. “They’ve shown themselves to be against the Pride Community in the past, saying it’s ‘unbiblical’ as if they even know the meaning of the word. I should have expected such an extreme reaction. I mean, what was I wanting?” She was gesturing as she spoke, hands flying wide. “Them to open their arms wide and say that it was fine, that they’d still love me anyways?”

“Yes.” The soft voice didn’t come from Logan, but from Emily at the door. “Yes, that’s exactly what they should have done. They should have accepted you with open arms and loved you unconditionally. That’s what parents are supposed to do, love their child no matter what they turn out to be like.”

The friends sat up. Logan’s arm carelessly slung around Patty’s waist as a comforting presence. “Thanks again, Emily, Remi, for letting me stay here.”

The wives shared a look that clearly spoke volumes. “That’s just it. If we can get your parents to give away their right to you, we could adopt you.” Remi began.

“However,” Emily continued, “You’re almost eighteen. That’s a legal adult who can choose to stay with us as long as you want.”

“So,” Remi asked, pushing her sunglasses up to the top of her head. “Do you want two new moms?”

Patty nodded so hard she was sure her head would pop off as she flung herself off the bed and into their arms.


	18. Losing Their Temper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: arguments.  
> Band/College AU

Roman rolled his eyes, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Sure, because that’s not the most idiotic idea I’ve ever heard.”

Virgil scowled. “Well at least I’m trying to contribute something to the conversation.”

“What, unlike me?” Roman shot back, a hand going to his chest.

“Come on now, guys.” Patton said soothingly, “Play nice.”

“You know what, Pat?” Virgil rounded on his friend. “No, I’m done ‘playing nice’. I’ve done nothing but play nice for the past few months and it’s gotten me nowhere. Maybe I wasn’t made to play nice with others, maybe I’m incompatible in the group. But I’ve been trying to make this work. I’ve been trying to be nice, to shut up when Roman calls me a name that really hits a nerve, to dial it back when you tell me I’m coming on too strong, to be the good little emo that you want. Do you wanna know where it’s gotten me? Farther back into the corner than I was when I just didn’t show up to these little meetups.” He paused to shrug, hands going into his hoodie pocket. His voice turned from the rough and angry it had been to the sad and bitter he’d been feeling. “Maybe I should go back to doing that.”

“Virgil-” Logan tried to speak but Virgil just held up a hand.

“Don’t think I don’t have beef with you too, L.” He began gathering his things, shoving them into his pockets, drumsticks going in his back pocket. He paused just long enough to consider the drum set before deciding to just leave it there. “The way you constantly belittle everyone, making it seem like most of us don’t know what we’re talking about. How you talk as if you have to dumb everything down for us. It’s infuriating and unnecessary.” Logan was stunned into silence, which Virgil took as his cue to leave.

As angry as Virgil was, he couldn’t bear to delete the group chat or their numbers. So, he just watched as their lives went back to normal. No discussions of if they should talk to him, no wondering what to do now that he was gone, just moving on with no mention of him again. He went about his life, notifications for the group chat turned off but still looking at it regularly.

So, he didn’t notice when someone on a skateboard almost crashed into him before they stopped and turned around, doing a double take. He had his music in and he was trying to follow the directions to a new building on campus for a meet up so he didn’t notice when the skater called his name, nor when they picked up their skateboard and ran after him.

“Virgil!” A hand landed on his shoulder and the voice caused him to turn his music off and put his headphones around his neck.

“Yeah?” He turned to face the person only to find his crush and ex band member, Logan.

“Hi?” Logan seemed hesitant, as if he hadn’t thought this through all the way. Virgil just set his lips in a tight line and, shaking his head, walked away.

“Don’t waste my time.” He muttered, moving to put his headphones back on.

“Wait!” Logan moved around him, blocking his path. “Give me five minutes?” There was a desperate look in his eyes that made Virgil agree.

“Fine, time starts now.”

“I’m lost without you.”

Virgil crossed his arms. “Go on.”

“Listen, the whole group is in shambles. I can’t get anyone to do anything, no one listens anymore, it’s a mess.” He scratched the back of his neck. “And . . . I missed you.”

Virgil had missed him too, dearly, but that was the last thing he’d admit when still in this mood. “Four minutes.”

“We- I need you back, Virge. I don’t think we can survive without you.”

Virgil scoffed. “Why don’t I believe that? Oh, that’s right. You guys got along just fine before I showed up and the period of time where I was too busy to show up. So, obviously you guys should be able to survive just fine without me.” He couldn’t bring himself to ridicule Logan missing him as he didn’t have the strength to entertain the thought of it being a lie.

Logan sighed. “We were alright before you came but we found a harmony with you that is completely lacking now that you’re gone. Nothing’s working and the music is suffering.”

Virgil shook his head again, hands resting at his sides before moving as he spoke. “Do you really think I care about the state of the band after you guys slowly pushed me out of it for the past few months? Because yeah, this is really the aftermath of me not being listened to and pushed aside when I tried to suggest anything. Despite the drummer being the one to keep everyone on beat and in sync, no one listened when I spoke. So, no, I don’t think I’m going to come back.” He moved to step past Logan but was stopped again by his arm in front of him.

“I wasn’t lying about any of it but, if you’re going to take one statement as truth please let it be that I missed you. For that is the most true one of all.”

Virgil did his best to maintain his facial expression. No matter how much he wanted to melt into Logan’s arms and confess his crush, he was still seething at the thought of Logan using his feelings against him. He was still angry that he was trying to get him back into the group. He was as stubborn and petty as he felt he needed to be in order to keep his damaged walls intact. So, he looked Logan right in the eye. “If this is your way of asking if we can still see each other outside the band, I’m afraid you’re going to have to ask me that again in a few months once the betrayal doesn’t sting as badly. For now, we’re strangers that happen to share classes.”

He pushed past him and, this time, Logan let him go. Instead, he stood there watching as Virgil walked farther and farther away. Maybe one day they’d reconcile and confess, maybe one day they could be happy together, maybe with the whole band back as a friend group again. For now, however, they would be strangers drifting through life side by side but not communicating, not sharing a laugh between lectures, existing but meaning nothing but an open wound to the other.


	19. Hostage Video

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: this one has some relatively graphic wounds in it. Please be safe and read at your own discretion. Torture/threat of harm, relatively graphic depictions of wounds, pain used as punishment.

Logan slammed the doors open, his cloak swirling around him as he moved. “I heard we have news.”

Roman looked up from the computer, a tired look on his face that was probably also on Logan’s. “It’s not good news.”

“But it’s news?” Logan was desperate to hear anything about his fiancé. He’d gone missing three days ago and there had yet to be any word of him.

Roman nodded. “It’s news.” He turned the computer to show Logan a video file in an email. “We’ve tried to trace the IP address but came up empty handed.”

Logan took a deep breath to steady himself. “Okay, play it.”

Roman’s head turned sharply to look at him. “Are you sure? We don’t know what we’re going to find on it.”

Logan nodded. “Not knowing is killing me and it might be killing him. I need to know.”

Roman placed a hand on his shoulder. “Alright, let's do this.”

He put the video in full screen before pressing play. It panned from a blank wall to a chair in the center of a tarp that seemed to already be covered in blood. The occupant of the chair had their head bowed and blood dripped from their nose. Logan recognized the chipped lavender nail polish and felt his jaw clench. The love of his life and the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with was tied to a metal chair in a nondescript room being tortured for who knows how long or for what and he couldn’t do anything about it.

Roman squeezed his shoulder. “We’ll find him, Lo.”

Virgil’s head slowly raised until he was looking slightly to the left of the camera. A small smile appeared on his lips even as his eyes looked dead tired. “Hey, Lo.” His voice was rough, as if he’d lost it. Logan’s mind supplied that it was probably due to screaming. His eyes lingered on the long gash on his forehead that cut through his eyebrow and dangerously close to his eye before trailing down to the bruising at the jaw.

“They’ve got a few demands.” Virgil managed to look bored and scared at the same time. A gloved hand came into frame, threatening a slap unless Virgil complied. Virgil just narrowed his eyes. “First, they want two million dollars put in a duffel bag and left at an airport of their choice which I’m assuming is labeled in the email as it’s not here.”

The hand returned and Virgil just bared his teeth, snarling quietly. Logan silently thanked Virgil for at least telling them he was reading off a script but also worried for the rebellious noble.

“The second, and you’re really gonna hate this, is that they want us to break off the engagement. It’s something about being homophobic toward the royal family. I tried to tell them that we’re not even technically in line for the throne but they didn’t want to hear that.”

The hand came out again, this time to backhand him. Virgil spit out a glob of blood before baring his teeth to the people behind the camera again. Logan worried his thumb between his teeth as he watched, fear for his fiancé the only thing in his mind.

Virgil’s voice brought his mind back to the video, eyes focusing on him and noting the little details of dried blood on his chest, a slash on his arm, bloodied wrists likely from the rope tying him to the chair. He couldn’t see past his waist but assumed his legs were in no better condition. “The third is not actually a demand, even though they have it listed as one. They want you to go to a set location. The directions to it will be found in the airport they want the money at. I’m assuming this will lead you on a wild goose chase long enough for them to circumvent you-”

Another backhanded slap that left a cut, this time on the other cheek, and the video ended abruptly. Logan nodded, his jaw set and eyes focused, and exited out of the video, scanning the email. He forwarded it to himself, waited for the ding on his phone, before grabbing his keys and walking out the door.

“Wait! Where are you going?” Roman called after him, his boots thudding on the floor to catch up with him.

Logan paused in his tracks when Roman came around, blocking the exit. “I’m going on that goose-chase and I’m getting Virgil back. Roman, I don’t know what I'll do if I don’t.”

Roman nodded, hands placating. “I know, Lo. I know you want to just dive headfirst into this. But calm down, think logically. We can’t just do this. We need guards, and backup!”

Logan’s patience was thinning. “Roman, prince or no, I’m going and there’s nothing you can do to stop me. You can either join me, or stay out of my way.”

Roman nodded and stepped to the side, falling in line next to Logan. “All I ask is that we take Remus with us.”

Logan nodded. “Fine, call him.”


	20. Ambulance Ride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of Hostage Video.  
> CW: the depictions of wounds from Hostage Video still applies, hospitals, doctors, bandages and casts, mentions of surgery/stitches.

Logan crowed in triumph when he finally solved the last puzzle. “Okay, I’ve got the address.”

Roman smiled, snapping a picture of it with his phone. “Great. Should I call for backup?”

Logan shook his head. “No, just plot a course.” With that, he turned on his heel and walked back to the car, sliding into the driver’s seat and waiting impatiently for the two bodyguards to catch up. Roman was walking just a bit slower than Remus was as he was typing on his phone. This resulted in the more energetic twin trying to get into the front seat with Logan.

“No.” Logan didn’t explain but Remus knew what he meant. He knew he’d messed up, he’d let his charge out of his sight, and now they were all paying for it. So, Remus quietly got in the back. Roman caught up and climbed into the passenger seat, Logan stepping on the gas the second his seatbelt was buckled.

“How far out are we?” He asked.

“At the speed you’re going? About twenty five minutes.”

Logan nodded. “Go ahead and call an ambulance to that location as well. Tell them it’s Lord Storm and to step on the gas. If they’re not there around the same time we are I’m not going to be happy.”

Roman nodded and called their national hotline. Logan barely registered the conversation as his main focus was on getting to that address and finding Virgil as fast as he could. Any second that Virgil was not in his sight was another second where he could be bleeding out. Logan was particularly worried about the long gashes on his left forearm and his forehead. He was also concerned for the parts of Virgil that had remained hidden by the bottom of the screen.

They pulled up to the building and Logan practically threw himself out of the car, barely waiting to put it in park. He threw the doors to the building open, not caring who was in there, his only thought was to find Virgil. Calling his name, he ran from door to door, opening them as fast as he could before scanning the room quickly and moving on to the next one. He was only barely aware of the two bodyguards doing the same nearby.

Finally, he threw open a set of double doors. “Virgil?”

A groan sounded in reply and he almost wept as he ran forward, stumbling over himself to follow the noise. He almost tripped on the tarp but kept going until Virgil was in sight. A split lip had been added to the wounds on his upper body and there seemed to be a slice in his jeans so Logan assumed he’d been stabbed, his ankles rubbed raw and bleeding from the rope tying him to the folding chair he was on, shoes nowhere in sight.

“Roman! Remus! I found him!” Logan turned to call back the way he came, adding a, “Where the fuck is that ambulance?” after a second.

His attention was drawn back to Virgil as the nobleman groaned again. He rushed forward, sliding to his knees next to the chair as he started on the legs. He tenderly cupped the ankle as he picked at the knot. “I’m here, darling, I’ve got you. You’re safe now, beloved, I’m gonna get you out of here.” He kept up an almost constant stream of comforting words and the pet names they’d accrued over the three years they’d been dating and the six months of being engaged.

He’d gotten all of the bonds off and his hands were hovering over Virgil’s cheeks when the doors were opened again, this time to let in a team of paramedics and a gurney. Logan moved back a bit but stayed within Virgil’s line of sight.

“L?” Virgil’s voice was slurred slightly but his eyes searched the room.

Logan came as close as he dared, holding out a hand as the paramedics carefully moved Virgil from the chair to the gurney. “I’m right here, love. You’re not alone anymore.”

Virgil’s eyes focused on Logan and he held a hand out to hold Logan’s. The prince walked beside the gurney on the way out, barely taking his eyes off Virgil. The paramedics loaded Virgil into the ambulance with Logan insisting to come with them. He never let go of Virgil’s hand and kept speaking to him even as the paramedics tried to bandage what they could. The ride was bumpy but Logan didn’t care, his entire focus on Virgil. It was a bit clumsy to climb out of the vehicle still holding his hand but he managed to do it and follow up until he wasn’t allowed to go any farther.

He paced the waiting room, every second feeling like an hour. The twins must have driven over behind the ambulance as they came in and sat down shortly after. He could see Remus pacing out of the corner of his eye and part of him was glad the man felt worry for his charge.

A doctor came out after what felt like a century but couldn’t have been more than a half hour and made a beeline for Logan. She bowed low when she approached. “Your highness.”

“How is he?” Logan didn’t care about formalities, just needing to know Virgil’s state of health.

“He’s not as bad as he could be. Multiple deep cuts, a few broken ribs, a broken ankle, severely bleeding extremities. He needed stitches in the gashes on the forehead and forearm as well as on the stab wound that barely missed bone in the leg. He also needed a cast for the ankle and we’ve bandaged the ribs to keep them from shifting.”

Logan felt sick at the thought of someone torturing Virgil. “May I see him?”

Her eyes softened with understanding. “You may but I’m going to have to ask that the other two stay outside as we don’t want to overwhelm him.”

Logan nodded and the trio followed her to Virgil’s room. Logan slipped inside while the twins took up guard, both relieved to have a post again. The prince let out a relieved sigh to see Virgil, bandaged and in a safe place.

“Hey, love.” Logan’s voice was soft and gentle, as quiet as he let himself be if only to hide the tears that were suddenly choking him. Virgil smiled, his eyes brimming with tears as he held his arms out for Logan, who gratefully crawled onto the bed and carefully laid against Virgil. “I thought I’d lost you.” Logan’s voice was shaky, the tears threatening to fall now.

Virgil ran a hand through Logan’s hair, calming him down even as his own tears spilled over. “I knew you’d come for me. I never doubted for a second.”

Logan sat up, supporting himself with a hand on the bed as the other hovered over Virgil’s cheek. The noble closed the distance and his eyes as he pressed into Logan’s palm. He hummed in contentment. “I love you.”

Logan’s tears fell at that as he leaned in and kissed him softly on the other cheek. “I love you too, Starlight.”


	21. Tearful Smile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: food, beach, large body of water.

Logan met Virgil on vacation. He’d actually been on a business trip but the cute enby didn’t know that at first. Theirs was a whirlwind romance that happened over the summer. The most painful moment in Logan’s thirty five years of life was when he’d had to leave Virgil when the summer was over.

They’d met when Logan had gotten out of a particularly stressful meeting and had decided to go down to the beach to surf and unwind. He’d stopped in his tracks when his belongings were nowhere to be found at the spot he’d placed them at. Instead, someone was lying there.

Clearing his throat, Logan tried to get their attention. “Excuse me, you’re sitting on my things.”

They lifted their hand to shield their eyes as they gazed up at Logan. It took a second before they seemed to register what he was saying and rolled away, moving to pick up their things. “I’m so sorry, I thought that was my friend’s stuff.”

Logan chuckled. “No harm done, I assure you.” He moved to retrieve his items but paused at the stranger still gathering their things. “You know, I can simply move my things. It makes no sense to uproot a person who’s clearly utilizing this space better than I am.”

They froze in their tracks, blanket half folded. “Really? I don’t mind moving.”

Logan shook his head, grabbing the last of his things. “Truly. Please, stay. I insist.” He didn’t wait around to see if they did, just turned on his heel and left.

Soon, he heard a shout and the sounds of running feet. Stepping to the side, Logan simply thought it was someone running down the beach. He didn’t actually stop until a hand landed on his arm and panting was heard next to him. Turning, he found the stranger from a few minutes ago trying to catch their breath. He waited.

“You left your keys.” They said when they finally regained their breath. Logan looked to see his house keys in the other’s palm.

“Thank you, . . . I don’t think I’ve gotten your name yet,” he glanced down and found a ‘they/them’ pronoun pin on the other’s bag, “Mx. . .?”

They laughed. “Virgil, my name is Virgil.” They held a hand out for Logan to shake.

Logan took the hand and gave it a firm, hard shake. “I’m Logan.” He held up his keys as he dropped the hand. “Thanks again.”

He turned and left, soon arriving at the villa he’d rented for the three months he was on the island. He left his shoes by the door, padding through the house to put the surfing things away where they belonged. After a quick shower, he sat at his desk and dealt with some paperwork, classical music playing in the background.

He was jolted out of his rhythm when an upbeat rap song played, his cue to take a break. Taking note of the time, he realized it was past the time for dinner. Standing, he moved to the kitchen and grabbed a menu at random from the selection that had been there when he’d arrived, coming away with one for a Chinese restaurant. He ordered some food and went back to his desk to tidy up while he waited.

The doorbell rang and he stepped out to pay the delivery man, seeing Virgil entering the villa to the direct left of Logan’s. Calling to them, Logan stood barefoot in the night air. “Virgil! Do you live here too?”

Virgil turned to see him, a small smile creeping across their face. Logan felt, in that moment, that he might have just witnessed something that hadn’t been for him to see. Virgil crossed the plaza and stood near Logan. “Hey, didn’t expect to see you again.”

Logan smiled, looking down at the food in his hand and silently thanking it for the chance to see the cute enby again. “Yeah, I’ve been living here for a few days now.”

Virgil nodded, twirling their keys between their fingers, almost looking like they wanted to escape back to their house. “Cool. Do you have plans to stay for long?”

It was Logan’s turn to nod. “I’m staying at least until the end of the season, if not longer.” They talked for a few more minutes before Virgil said they’d leave to let Logan enjoy his food.

For a while after that, they’d talk when they happened to pass each other, most times it was when one was leaving and the other arriving. Their conversations were done in snippets, both looking forward to the next segment of time they got to talk about things. Soon enough, they were skipping small talk entirely to go directly to the current topic of debate.

One night, Logan took a taxi home. He’d been out with his coworkers and been pressured into drinking, even though he told them he’d be driving home. He’d gotten snippy with them and had been laughed off and shoved in a taxi. Thus, he ended up trying to fit his key into his lock while his vision was blurry, having no idea where his glasses were. 

After about ten minutes of trying, he heard a sigh behind him and turned around. A purple blob that, if he squinted, looked like Virgil was standing there, a brown bag in their arms. They sighed again. “Logan, that’s not your door.”

Logan looked down at his hand, feeling kind of shocked to find his keys in his hands. “So it’s not. Oh well.” He smiled at Virgil, leaning against the doorpost for support. “How are you doing, this fine night?”

Virgil came closer but Logan still couldn’t see them any better. Which was a real shame as they were honestly quite nice to look at. “You know, it’s a shame I can’t see you very well right now.”

Virgil shook their head, putting the bag by their feet to fish their keys out of their pocket. Logan leaned over and picked up the bag, wanting to be helpful. “And why is that?”

“You’re really pretty.” He startled. “You don’t mind being called that, do you? Do you prefer handsome or something different?”

Virgil chuckled, turning their head away. “Thank you, Logan.”

Logan tried to stand up straight to not spill whatever was in the bag. “Hey, what’s in this bag?” He tipped his head down, trying to look into it but the light wasn’t bright enough.

Virgil looked over, just now realizing that he was holding the bag. “Nothing, just something from work.”

“What do you do for work?” Logan asked but got ignored in favor of continuing to attempt to open the door.

Virgil got their door open and took the bag from Logan. “How about you come inside? You’re in no condition to be alone.”

Logan squinted at Virgil in a look that was more of a glare than a squint. His head came out just a bit so he looked, as Virgil later recounted, like a very confused bird. “Are you gonna kidnap me?”

Virgil pressed their lips into a straight line. “Now, why would I want to do that?”

“Because you’re cute enough to get away with it.” Logan said it as if it made all the sense in the world, like it was a fact of life.

Virgil shook their head again. “Come on, let’s just get inside.” They slung one of Logan’s arms over their shoulders and walked inside, kicking the door shut. Logan didn’t bother looking around, just looking at Virgil. They walked to the couch and Virgil gently deposited Logan there. “Stay.”

Logan stayed. He sat there, waiting for Virgil to put whatever that bag was away. Virgil found his glasses in his breast pocket and gently set them on the coffee table. He waited as Virgil filled up a glass with water and handed it to him. Logan took one sip and found that he was suddenly parched, draining the whole thing in one go. Virgil laughed but gave him a second glass they then had to take away as Logan attempted to chug that one as well. He stayed the night too, curled up on the couch under a blanket Virgil tossed over him when he’d passed out. That was an awkward morning. 

They were closer after that. Virgil would watch Logan’s things when he went surfing and they happened to be on the beach too, sharing a ride home. Logan would pick up some fast food as payment for watching his things. Once they got even closer, Virgil told Logan about their work as a marine biologist and even took him on a few dives with them.

Slowly, over sand crusted flip flops, empty pizza boxes and Chinese take out cartons, talk of stars and of fish, visits to the aquarium and night walks on the beach to look at the stars, over a shared love of all things ocean and space, they fell in love. Logan couldn’t pinpoint the exact time he fully understood his emotions, only that one second he was talking about stars and the next Virgil was asking if they could kiss him and in that moment he couldn’t remember wanting anything more.

Soon, they were sprawling into each other’s lives in ways they hadn’t before. Keys to villas were exchanged, coming and going as they pleased. They were sharing dinner, pulling each other away from work to cuddle on a couch and watch movies. They quickly settled into a routine and were loving it, loving being with each other, loving each other.

However, just as all things do, Logan’s business trip came to an end. He’d put in a request to be transferred to that location permanently but he still had to go back to pack up his house and officially transfer.

Virgil drove him to the airport. Neither talked, both just trying to soak up as much time with the other as they could get. When they got there, Logan hugged Virgil as hard as he could, trying to burn this moment into his memory. He heard a sniffle and when he pulled back, Virgil had tears in their eyes. Logan kissed their cheeks, wanting to get rid of those tears and kicking himself for doing this to them.

“Hey, look at me for a second.” Logan asked. Virgil did so, trying to put a smile on their face but it came out shaky. “I’m coming back as soon as I can, okay?” He paused to kiss their forehead. “I left a few of my sweaters at your place for now but I promise I’ll be wearing those before you know it.”

Virgil chuckled, wiping tears away. “Okay, that’s good. I wasn’t sure if it would be weird but I put a few of my shirts in your suitcase while you were packing.”

Logan laughed, fighting tears as well. “That’s nice, I like that.”

He had to leave, walking into the airport but pausing just before the door to wave at Virgil. Then came the waiting, sitting around for an hour before actually boarding. He watched through the window as the island became smaller and smaller until he couldn't see it anymore, until it might as well have been a fantasy he’d created. Pulling up his phone, he chose to stare at a picture of Virgil instead, something to remind him both why he was leaving and what he had waiting for when he came back.


End file.
